Reformer or Destroyer? Hashimoto Tōru and Populist Neoliberal Politics in Japan

Abstract

At his peak, the exceptional political performance skills and distinctive political program of Hashimoto Tōru made him Japan’s most popular, and potentially most influential, politician. This article describes his meteoric political career as a classic case of Japanese-style populist neoliberalism, featuring populist criticism of unions and public sector employees, neoliberal market-oriented policymaking, and comprehensive regional restructuring. Like Ronald Reagan and Koizumi Junichirō, who effectively meshed populist with neoliberal practices, Hashimoto has maintained strong political support by combining outstanding political performance skills with a signature policy, unifying Osaka City and Osaka Prefecture, to create a distinctive policymaking agenda. The aggressive and impatient political style of Hashimoto has often resulted in poor policies, but has bolstered his popularity by creating an image of decisive and effective decision-making, although his political weaknesses became increasingly apparent in 2013.

By mid-2012, less than five years after entering politics, Hashimoto Tōru was Japan’s most popular politician. Hashimoto’s television-generated fame and crowd-pleasing skills propelled him to an easy win in his first election, in 2008, for the governorship of Osaka Prefecture. He soon developed his signature policy programs, unifying Osaka City with Osaka Prefecture, and applying aggressive market-style reform to one of the nation’s most economically troubled regions. In 2012, he moved boldly into national politics, calling for nationwide adoption of his political reform agenda and establishing a new political party, Nippon Ishin no Kai, which quickly became Japan’s third largest. All this before Hashimoto’s major programs had had time to produce significant results—indeed before most had actually been enacted at all.

But by mid-2013, it had become clear that most of Hashimoto’s agenda would probably never be enacted. Soon after establishing himself as a national political actor, Hashimoto saw his influence undermined by a combination of poor judgment, stiffening local opposition, and shifts in the national political environment. His program of aggressive neoliberal reform and regional restructuring, once viewed by many as bold and innovative, was overshadowed by the rapid success of Abenomics in stimulating economic growth.

This article describes Hashimoto’s meteoric political career as a classic case of populist neoliberalism (Ōtake 2003), featuring populist criticism of unions and public sector employees, and neoliberal market-oriented policymaking aimed at reviving Osaka’s troubled economy. Hashimoto’s message, though simple, has infused supporters with the belief that he is enacting fundamental change. Like several national leaders, notably Ronald Reagan and Koizumi Junichirō, who have effectively meshed populist with neoliberal practices, Hashimoto has maintained strong political support by combining outstanding political performance skills with a signature policy, unifying Osaka City and Osaka Prefecture, to create a distinctive policymaking agenda. Hashimoto’s aggressive and impatient political style has often generated poor policies, but has bolstered his popularity by creating an image of decisive and effective decision-making.

This article is structured as follows. Part 1 draws on studies of populism, neoliberalism, and political entrepreneurship to develop a framework for analyzing Hashimoto’s political career. Part 2 describes his early political career, emphasizing populist strategies used to command voter attention. Part 3 describes Hashimoto’s signature program, Osaka unification, while Part 4 examines his core neoliberal policies, including privatization, education, and restrictions on public employees. Part 5 examines Hashimoto’s bases of support and the causes of his precipitate political decline in 2013. The Discussion re-appraises Hashimoto’s political style and the Conclusion notes his likely long-term political impact.

1. Part 1: Populism and Neoliberalism

1.1. Populism

Noting the spread of populism through the advanced economic democracies since the 1970s, researchers now generally accept that it is no ‘pathology of democracy’, but a natural phenomenon arising from the tension between the democratic ideal of direct or mass participation and the mundane reality of representative government (Mény and Surel 2002a). Drawing on Mény and Surel (2002b), populism can be defined as political practices that appeal to the interests, values, and common sense of the common people, driven by a belief (or claim) that elites or special interests have mismanaged or abused the political system. Populist politicians typically offer simple solutions to complex problems in direct language, often while extolling the superior virtue of the common people. They usually invoke enemies as well.

The spread of populism has been facilitated by the weakening of major political parties and the declining salience of class identity. The diffusion of the welfare state (and subsequent frustration at its costs) and wide acceptance of the core neoliberal policymaking agenda (privatization and deregulation) have blurred the differences between traditional leftist and conservative political stances. Becoming less able to actively mobilize voters, political parties increasingly turn to negative appeals, typically attacks on established elites or allegedly privilege-abusing groups like unions, to rouse voters. Koizumi and Britain’s Tony Blair (Mair 2002: 92–97), for example, established non-partisan credentials partly by using populist appeals to lambast their own parties.

Another commonly cited reason for the spread of populism is the expanding influence of mass media, especially television, which reputedly emphasizes performance skills over policymaking expertise, and encourages ‘shallow engagements’ over active participation (Marsh 2005: 39). Reagan was perhaps the first major politician to hone public communications skills through television appearances, while Italy’s Silvio Berlusconi notoriously uses his media empire as a political base. Ōtake (2003: 114) argues that populist political appeals, emphasizing simplistic good-versus-evil narratives, closely match the demand of mass media for short, dramatic messages. Hence television has expedited the rise of populist Japanese politicians taking moralistic stances. Ōtake (2006) views Koizumi as an archetypal case: he presented issues as right-or-wrong, ignoring the conventional understanding of politics as struggles over distribution or benefits between legitimate interest groups.

The distinctive features of national media systems help determine the kinds of appeals that get made, and that resonate with the public. In the US, the fragmentation of media means that some broadcast companies now play openly partisan political roles. Fox News, for example, provided important backing for the Tea Party during its rapid development in 2009 (Skocpol and Williamson 2012: 121–154). Although Japan’s mainstream media remains centralized and less openly partisan, news shows with opinionated hosts such as Sunday Project emerged around 1990 and began to play central roles in shaping political debates (Ōtake 2003: 197–238). They strongly encouraged demand for political reform, and thus played a pivotal role in the restructuring of established political parties and rapid establishment of new ones that occurred from 1993. Certainly, moralistic stances and television have been central to Hashimoto’s political career, but his appearances air frequently on television mainly because he provides political theatre that attracts viewers, not because broadcast companies consciously support him.

1.2. Neoliberalism

Cerny, Soederberg, and Menz (2005: 12) view neoliberalism as a doctrine emphasizing that a government’s main task should be making markets work well. While generally following this reasoning, this paper bears in mind Hall’s (1986) observation that market-oriented policymaking is often generated by ideological or political preferences rather than from economic belief. The observation primarily concerned Margaret Thatcher, but applies equally well to Hashimoto, who bases his demands for strengthening executive power (including his own) on a vision of strong managerial authority as natural and just. Seeking to reduce the state’s role in economy and society, neoliberal politicians cut taxes, weaken state regulatory powers, privatize public assets, and reduce welfare benefits. They view unions as obstructing the smooth flow of the market, but seek to suppress them not directly (that would require active government intervention) but indirectly by eliminating their prerogatives. In addition, neoliberal doctrine emphasizes the individual. American academics advanced the neoliberal agenda by developing a concept of public interest viewing people more as atomized customers than citizens in a collectivity and by emphasizing that the state, like private companies, provides customer services (Suleiman 2003: 41–59; Crouch 2011: 49–70). Ishin no Kai leaders fully embrace this view, stating, ‘Osaka Ishin [Ishin no Kai] believes in giving first priority to the consumers’ happiness’ (Sakaiya, Ueyama, and Hara 2012: 28, 30), and emphasizing their intent to diffuse this practice nationwide.

Some Western researchers discern a strong affinity between neoliberalism and populism, especially in the most free-market-oriented countries, including the US, Britain, and Australia (Suleiman 2003; Soederberg, Menz, and Cerny 2005; Marsh 2005; Prasad 2006). Some Japanese scholars suggest that such an affinity exists in Japan as well (Ōtake 2003; Yoshida 2011). This affinity derives from ideational and institutional conditions. With regard to ideational foundations, both populism and neoliberalism exhibit strong tendencies toward simplified explanations. For example, Canovan (2002) argues that populism functions in response to the fundamental contradiction of democracy, which is that it empowers the people but imposes ‘complex and intricate’ (and to the average voter, non-transparent) rules to mediate that power. To frustrated citizens, populist appeals can provide a readily accessible means of understanding how politics works (or should work). Many neoliberal politicians offer similarly simple and appealing prescriptions to complex problems, such as Reagan’s promise to balance the federal budget and stimulate growth by cutting taxes and shrinking government. Further, while government and unions are commonly savaged by populists and neoliberals, free enterprise is usually lauded, not only for job- and wealth-creating prowess, but for maximizing human freedom and dignity. In reality, neoliberal policies, notably tax cuts and privatization, often fail to achieve their economic purposes (Sclar 2000) or entail a great deal of re-regulation (Vogel 1996; Campbell and Pedersen 2001a). Nevertheless, they are usually easier to package and explain than policies obviously requiring redistribution (Campbell 2001).

1.3. Political Entrepreneurship

To advance our understanding of why certain policy proposals gain serious attention, Kingdon (1995) pioneered the field of political entrepreneurship. He posits that selected proposals become part of the decision agenda (receive serious consideration) when the political stream (political environment) and problem stream (perception of problems) converge in a manner that creates policy windows (opportunities) for policy entrepreneurs to bring serious attention to their ideas. His typical policy entrepreneurs include academics and government bureaucrats who spend years honing policy proposals. Prasad (2006), building on Kingdon’s insights but focusing on the rise of neoliberal policymaking, describes how ambitious politicians have sometimes gained national attention by wielding more or less ‘new’ ideas. Reagan and Thatcher, for example, developed new bases of voter support, independently of their parties, by putting into action ideas developed largely by economists, such as Arthur Laffer, ‘at the fringes of their profession’ (Prasad 2006: 21). They proceeded to elevate tax cutting and privatization from peripheral into core practices, consequently propelling neoliberalism into quasi-‘hegemonic’ status.

Hashimoto’s political career was made possible by an unstable political environment that has given rise to a plethora of new parties over the past two decades. The Democratic Party (itself recently formed in 1998) aggravated the situation by raising people’s hopes with a landslide 2008 victory, only to suffer the breakdown of its flimsy policy program and the near collapse of the party itself. The resulting discontent encouraged more parties to emerge. Consequently, the national election in 2012 was contested by 11 parties, and Asahi Newspaper in February 2011 identified 33 regional parties, 11 of them formed in the previous 14 months.¹ Many were led by prefectural governors or large-city mayors demanding greater autonomy from the central government and reduction of tax and welfare burdens. The best-known parties matching the pattern include Hashimoto’s Ishin no Kai and Tax-Cut Japan, led by Nagoya Mayor Kawamura Takashi.

In strong contrast to the political environment, the problem stream and the policy stream have been stable for at least two decades. Concern about stagnant economic growth has been constant, bringing strong support for reform, notably including market-oriented reform to stimulate and render employment practices more flexible (Miura 2012). Japan’s most popular prime ministers of recent years, Koizumi Junichirō and Nakasone Yasuhiro, possessed strong media skills and utilized privatization to weaken leftist unions and reduce labor costs. After Koizumi left office in 2005, constant media reports of workplace abuses and other employment problems created a problem stream favoring ‘re-regulation’ of employment practices to correct the alleged excesses of Koizumi’s deregulatory policies (Igarashi 2008), and the Democratic Party responded by making labor market reform part of its core policy package. However, the Democratic Party’s employment-related policies (adopted out of opportunism rather than commitment) had little impact, while the current Abe Shinzō Government and its business allies are once again pursuing comprehensive labor market deregulation, demonstrating the essential constancy of the problem and policy streams.

Hashimoto has blended ‘political entrepreneurial’ proposals, especially schemes for restructuring Osaka, into a very aggressive but otherwise fairly standard populist neoliberal package intended to deal with economic decline. He won his first election easily, and his popularity created a policy window to pursue ambitious reforms, much as Reagan was politically empowered by the sweeping Republican victory in 1980 (Kingdon 1995). Hashimoto probably never thought seriously about politics before becoming a politician, but he was able to select proposals from a readily available policy stream of neoliberal and regional reform, tailoring them to correspond to local concerns such as Osaka’s dysfunctional administrative structure. As Campbell and Pedersen observe, neoliberalism is not a coherent policy set so much as a ‘loose conglomeration’ of market-oriented policies and ideas from which actors ‘pick and choose depending on prevailing political, economic, social, historical, and institutional conditions’(2001b: 3).

Upon winning his first election, Hashimoto demonstrated strong entrepreneurial skill through ‘immediate engagement with substantive issues’ (Prasad 2006: 51), namely, slashing the budget deficit and pursuing educational reform. Further, just as Reagan and Thatcher turned longstanding but peripheral policy ideas into major initiatives, Hashimoto became the first policymaker in decades to turn Osaka unification into a serious proposal. But while Reagan or Thatcher drew ideas in large part from relatively unknown players, Hashimoto, 30 years later, utilizes a well-established paradigm and has recruited as advisors numerous prominent figures, some with high-level policymaking experience.

2. Part 2: Populist Foundations

2.1. Political Launch

Unlike most major Japanese politicians, Hashimoto is neither second- or third-generation (like Koizumi or Abe) nor a former national bureaucrat. Instead, he overcame a somewhat disadvantaged family background to become wildly successful in both his professional and political careers. Hashimoto’s life experience has provided a foundation for his brash political style and helped to legitimate his demand for competition-driven practices. His father lived apart from the family and died young. For many years, his mother worked two jobs, and the family lived in public housing. Bullied upon entering junior high, Hashimoto overcame the problem, partly by playing rugby, and demonstrated gifts for both study and leadership. Numerous classmates and teachers attest that he often slacked off, but displayed formidable abilities to assimilate information and pass tests when motivated. After graduating from prestigious Waseda University, Hashimoto passed the bar examination on his second try in 1996, when the pass rate was just three percent, and established an independent law practice in just 10 months, instead of the usual 10 years.

Hashimoto’s media gifts were quickly discovered. By 2001 he was a prominent television personality, known for provocative statements and flamboyant style (as the chappatsu bengoshi—dyed-hair lawyer). Prior to entering politics, he was earning 300 million yen (three million dollars) a year. While rags-to-riches stories are less politically salient than in American politics, journalists observed that Hashimoto’s life experiences—especially being raised by a single parent of seven children in low-income areas, and himself raising seven children—differentiate him from most major politicians, underpinning (despite his wealth) folksy political stories such as dealing with family budget problems (Sankei Shinbun Osaka Shakai Bu 2009: 88–95).

Traditionally, Osaka Prefecture governors and (especially) Osaka City mayors have been selected through insider maneuvering, ensuring support from the business community and most major parties. However, with competition among parties intensifying, regional Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) and business leaders decided to select their own candidate for the 2008 gubernatorial election, and they recruited Hashimoto for his conservative leanings, name value and commitment to Osaka (the latter is seriously doubted by critics). He vacillated for weeks, repeatedly insisting that the odds of his candidacy were ‘20,000 percent impossible’ (a phrase much mocked by cynics who believe he dissembles readily) before making a late decision.

LDP regional leaders sagely hid their support (as did Komeito, a reluctant backer), enabling Hashimoto to run an unconventional campaign emphasizing his flamboyant political performance skills and ability to connect with ordinary people. His ‘street speeches’ drew large crowds, leading reporters to liken him to a political rock star. Much as Koizumi made reform his constant catchphrase, Hashimoto emphasized his intent to change Osaka. He tied the theme of change to his youth, energy, and close ties to Osaka and schoolboy rugby chums (‘I want everyone to form a scrum to rebuild Osaka!’). An 18-point policy manifesto emphasized support for child-rearing families, leaving privatization and market-related reforms to the end. Hashimoto easily won election on 27 January 2008, primarily through charismatic appeal rather than his policy agenda, and by attracting independent voters. At 38, he was Japan’s youngest governor, and one of the youngest in Japanese history.

2.2. Budget Politics and the Media

Upon taking office, Hashimoto highlighted his commitment to instituting business- or market-oriented practices in government by focusing on eliminating Osaka Prefecture’s 110 trillion yen (over one billion dollar) yearly budget deficit (Yomiuri Shinbun Osaka Honsha Shakaibu 2009: 93–210). Mixing neoliberal inclination (likening government to private business) with populist politics (denigrating government employees), he insisted that it was ‘natural’ (atarimae) that companies losing money would reduce wages and staff, and derided prefectural employees as ‘employees in a bankrupt company’. In his first press conference as governor, Hashimoto stated, ‘I want to break sweat with employees who want to change Osaka, but those who don’t care should leave’ (Yomiuri Shinbun Osaka Honsha Shakaibu 2009: 98). Differentiating the willing from the slackers became a constant rhetorical motif.

Hashimoto quickly demonstrated the ability to use his powerful media presence to dramatize campaigns and humble adversaries and to turn neoliberal cost-cutting efforts into populist theatre. He often staged hearings and inspections (especially in facilities whose funding he planned to reduce or eliminate) with television crews filming. Some prefecture staffers were hospitalized as a result of stress suffered negotiating (or arguing) in public with the governor. Despite inevitable complaints about cutbacks in services, Hashimoto’s policies drew strong support from the public, and certainly commanded its attention (Sankei Shinbun Osaka Shakai Bu 2009: 98–160). His achievement in (nearly) eliminating the budget deficit was somewhat exaggerated since previous governors’ reforms facilitated the process (Mori 2012: 94–99), but it established Hashimoto’s identity as relentless (and entertaining) reformer.

Hashimoto, like Koizumi, has demonstrated the ability to coin catchphrases well suited to the short news clips of television, but his rhetoric and criticisms are more aggressive and personal. While Koizumi criticized general targets such as the LDP or the Post Office and avoided ‘highly inflammatory’ rhetoric (Ōtake 2003: 123), Hashimoto makes strong statements and often berates individuals, especially before television crews. Strong rhetoric is used in part to compensate for lack of family political connections or established party support. Hashimoto once told reporters, ‘Since I haven’t had any political power, how can I get the public to listen to me? I have to say things the media can pick up easily or I flop, right?’ (Sankei Shinbun Osaka Shakai Bu 2009: 77). He prides himself on his ability to bring attention to regional issues by using rough language. ‘If you don’t make a lot of noise, Tokyo won’t know you’re there’ (Hashimoto and Sakaiya 2011: 95).

Hashimoto’s political practice features intensive use of personal interaction, social media, and television messaging. In contrast to his student days, Hashimoto the politician is regarded as a prodigious worker, sending e-mail messages around the clock and sometimes exhausting staff. He has been covered by up to 50 reporters at a given time, and has far and away the most Twitter followers of any Japanese politician, surpassing the one million mark early in 2013. Some days see him fire off over a 100 tweets, many of them gripes to assail critics or alleviate stress. To match statements and policies to public opinion, he devours newspapers.

Koizumi began the practice of burasagari, speaking with reporters once or twice daily for a few minutes. Later prime ministers at first followed his precedent, but ultimately abandoned the practice, largely because some (notably Abe and Aso Tarō) often blundered or simply proved poor media performers. Hashimoto routinely conducts burasagari both entering and leaving his offices, discoursing with reporters for up to an hour. This reflects a deliberate strategy to communicate with voters through television rather than print media (Yoshitomi 2011: 51–59). Hashimoto believes that television enables him to better control the content and context of his messages; he rarely grants interviews to newspaper or magazine journalists. To be sure, Hashimoto has often retracted statements and admitted lack of knowledge of the laws he amends or overturns (e.g. Nakayama 2012), but he incurred little resultant political damage until recently.

Hashimoto’s political style enrages critics. In classic populist fashion, Hashimoto stresses the logic of majority rule, constantly insisting that he possesses a strong mandate from the voters; Yamaguchi (2011) and other critics in turn angrily denounce his ‘plebiscitary’ logic. Critics have generated a small mountain of anti-Hashimoto literature and constantly liken him to Hitler and other dictators. The well-known term hashizumu was formed by mixing the words Hashimoto and fashizumu (fascism). His moralistic stance provokes similar frustration, especially since Hashimoto and Ishin no Kai have been charged, it is safe to say, with their share of administrative and ethical transgressions. Yet even when enduring fierce criticism, Hashimoto is credited for usually remaining master of the situation.² During his second election, in 2011, when he faced harsh attacks from sleazy tabloids as well as (mostly) responsible critics, he parried adeptly with Reaganesque self-deprecating humor, claiming that his wife made him clean dishes (‘Would a dictator allow that?’) or introducing himself as Japan’s most disliked man.

3. Part 3: Political Entrepreneurship and Osaka Metropolis

3.1. Conceiving Osaka Metropolis

The initial impetus for Osaka Metropolis is believed to stem largely from two failed initiatives. The first was a plan to move the prefectural offices to the towering World Trade Center. Hashimoto loved the view and thought it would impress foreigners, but the venture was misconceived (the Center is poorly located and not earthquake-proof), and the city assembly refused. A plan to improve efficiency and reduce Osaka’s notorious double administration by merging water treatment operations among the Prefecture’s 43 cities broke down in January 2010 because some municipalities refused to surrender authority over facilities.

These setbacks infuriated Hashimoto and reportedly sparked his desire to conduct drastic restructuring. By the beginning of 2010, Hashimoto had developed his basic plan for unifying Osaka by merging the prefecture’s 43 cities into a single to (Metropolitan Government) modeled on Tokyo-to (Tokyo Metropolitan Government). The scheme is called Osaka-to Kōsō (Osaka Metropolitan Concept; hereafter rendered as Osaka Metropolis). The basic concept was hardly new. Osaka’s administrative structure ranks among the country’s most dysfunctional, and efforts had been made at restructuring in the 1950s and (more tentatively) around 2000.³ The concept of Osaka Metropolis also draws on dōshūsei (regional system), a scheme in which Japan’s 47 prefectures would be reorganized into eight or nine autonomous political units to achieve much greater economic and policymaking efficiency. Dōshūsei and other regional restructuring proposals serve in part as expressions of conservative dissatisfaction with the central government.

Around the time that the unification scheme emerged, a nascent political organization began to coalesce. Thirty Assembly representatives (mostly from the LDP) from Osaka City, Osaka Prefecture, and Sakai City quit their parties to join Hashimoto’s newly formed Osaka Ishin no Kai (One Osaka; more literally, Council for Osaka’s Restoration). In the April 2010 election, Ishin no Kai politicians won a majority of the seats in the Prefectural Assembly. In addition, they became the largest party in the assemblies of Osaka City and Sakai City, though they would never obtain majorities.

Hashimoto in late 2011 strengthened his political position by conducting a double election, running for Osaka City mayor against the incumbent Hiramatsu Kunio while Ishin no Kai secretary general Matsui Ichiro ran to succeed Hashimoto as prefectural governor. In the 2011 election, his second, Hashimoto was much less of a street performer as he devoted considerable time to pushing Osaka Metropolis, but he still displayed plenty of populist savvy. Regarding the appeal of the US Tea Party, Skocpol and Williamson observe, ‘Fear punctuated by hope is a potent brew in politics’ (2012: 46); similarly, Hashimoto appealed to both the pride and frustrations of the residents of Osaka, once Japan’s leading city, vexed now by decades of social and economic decline. On 26 November, the election’s final day, Hashimoto told crowds, ‘We can’t entrust things to Diet politicians…Isn’t it only the people of Osaka Prefecture who can get this country moving? By creating Osaka-to we will create an Osaka that will win out over New York and London, that will not lose to Shanghai or Seoul or Bangkok’ (Yomiuri Shinbun Osaka Honsha Shakaibu 2012: 215).

The LDP and the Democratic Party curried Hashimoto’s favor at the national level in 2012 when they feared his electoral strength, but many of those parties’ local Osaka politicians despise Ishin no Kai for poaching members and employing unusually aggressive local election practices, such as running ‘assassins’ (Yomiuri Shinbun Osaka Honsha Shakaibu 2012: 29–32, 55–57). During the 2011 election, the regional Democratic Party joined the LDP and Komeito in opposing Ishin no Kai; even the steadfastly go-it-alone Communist Party partially cooperated. To no avail. The election drew a high turnout, 60.9% for the mayoral election (up 17.3 points from the previous election), as Hashimoto crushed the incumbent Hiramatsu (59% to 41%). Matsui also won easily, gaining 54.7% of the vote against a divided field.

3.2. The Great Reset

Taking office as Mayor on 19 December 2011, Hashimoto soon proclaimed he would launch a ‘great reset’ (his catchphrase) and ‘change Japan starting from Osaka’, hinting at national ambitions. The Prefecture-City Unification Headquarters was established to oversee unification policymaking and begin conducting a unified economic policy. As noted above, the unification scheme aims to eliminate redundant administration (in areas like water treatment), strengthen decision-making authority, and create a larger but more cohesive political unit that would also be essentially autonomous from the central government. Ishin no Kai leaders base much of their program on the belief that global cities are becoming the world’s leading economic players. Hence, decision-making authority must devolve to regional governments, which must in turn be larger in order to compete with regional economies in other countries. (Hashimoto would like to integrate several prefectures into a new super-region based in Osaka; unsurprisingly, other prefectural governors balked when he first broached the issue.) Ishin no Kai leaders emphasize the importance of systemic (comprehensive) change, likening their mission to that of Meiji era reformers (Hashimoto and Sakaiya 2011; Ueyama 2011). Hashimoto easily linked Osaka Metropolis to his neoliberal agenda by emphasizing that the scheme would raise efficiency, save money (notably through reduction of personnel), and improve customer (taxpayer) satisfaction by improving services.

Osaka Metropolis is a good example of a policy presented as a simple solution (administrative restructuring) to a complex problem (weak economic growth). In principle, it is desirable to restructure Osaka to alleviate such problems as the notorious ‘double administration’ of City and Prefecture, but implementation would be difficult, and not without risk, given the complexity of the administrative problems and disputes over redistribution of assets that would result. Matsui initially claimed Osaka Metropolis would economize 400 billion yen, about five percent of the combined municipal-prefectural budget, by eliminating double administration. However, Ishin no Kai exaggerated the benefits of unification and slighted many of the likely pitfalls (Yoshitomi 2011: 106, 142–206). Hashimoto and Matsui were eventually forced to concede that savings would be no more than 100 billion yen; in fact, real savings could be close to nil (Asahi, 19 October 2013: 1, evening edition).

Osaka Metropolis calls for redrawing Osaka City’s 24 wards plus Sakai City into 5 to 7 larger wards (the proposed numbers have fluctuated). The ward chiefs will be elected, as in Tokyo. Following neoliberal doctrine, Hashimoto emphasizes that the wards will compete to provide improved services to residents/customers. Ward chiefs will take responsibility for budgets far larger than before and with greater discretion on spending decisions (though there are serious doubts about how much discretion will in reality be possible). Since the scheme would result in large revenue differentials among wards, political opposition has been mounting.

Osaka’s complex political environment presents a major obstacle to the passage of Osaka Metropolis.⁴ Originally, regional frustrations created an opportunity for Hashimoto to seek voter support by promising reform and decisive policymaking, but he has since encountered the same obstacles that bedeviled his predecessors. One is the need to reach agreement with multiple political parties in overlapping political units to implement major policies. Hashimoto probably needs strong support in three Assemblies, those of Osaka Prefecture, Osaka City, and Sakai City, to enact Osaka Metropolis, but Ishin no Kai controls only the former. Further, the party’s difficult relations with regional LDP and Democratic Party politicians leave it heavily reliant on Komeito for legislative support.

4. Part 4: Neoliberal Agenda

4.1. Services and Competition

Hashimoto and Ishin no Kai emphasize competition and private business practice in plans to overhaul a wide range of services, including welfare, transportation, and cultural programs. Hashimoto insists, ‘What users don’t choose basically shouldn’t be provided’ (Asahi, 12 February 2012: 9); libraries and education are partly excluded from this reasoning. Privatization and outsourcing of services will drastically reduce the number of public sector personnel. The planned privatization of transport services is expected to reduce personnel by 6,500, and privatization of operations such as waterworks, hospitals, and trash collection will bring the total to 10,000, or nearly 30% of the city’s 38,000 public employees. Hashimoto plans to reduce city staffing (including ward personnel) from 21,600 in 2012 to 19,350 by 2015.

Executives from Osaka’s five private railway firms work closely with 43 special advisors, including former Koizumi advisors, elite bureaucrats, and academics, who play the lead roles in restructuring services and planning city-prefecture unification (cynics deride them as Nakanoshima 48, referencing Nakanoshima, the location of Osaka City’s governmental offices, and superstar music troupe AKB 48) (Sentaku 2012; Yomiuri Shinbun Osaka Honsha Shakaibu 2012: 235). Another private railway executive took charge of the Osaka Municipal Transportation Bureau in 2012.

Subways and bus services are scheduled for privatization in 2015 (with Hashimoto’s influence declining, the measure may well be rejected, but some important market-oriented reforms will take effect regardless). Initial plans called for eliminating 81 loss-making bus lines (out of 132 total) and drastically reducing free or discounted services, although the plans have been steadily modified because of resistance from citizens and assembly politicians, and concerns about services for the elderly and handicapped.⁵ Osaka City’s subway system generates surpluses that have subsidized loss-making buses, and opponents argue that this revenue should continue to fund services for low-income and support infrastructure investment⁶; Hashimoto plans instead to reduce ticket prices in 2014 to reflect the heightened efficiency expected from reduced personnel costs and future privatization. The numbers of employees will be reduced from 5,300 to 4,500 and their wages reduced as well (Nikkei, 26 December 2012: 39).

Wages for Osaka area bus drivers varied widely entering 2012, but were higher for public than private workers, so Hashimoto reduced wages of Osaka City drivers by up to 19%. Critics argued that the sudden loss of income could leave some families unable to cover housing loans and other costs. Further, the media has regularly highlighted dangers posed by Japan’s overworked bus and truck drivers in recent years, and lowered pay has led some Osaka bus drivers to work much longer hours (Fujita 2012: 157–58).

Hashimoto, much like Reagan (Prasad 2006: 36, 86–87), exaggerates the problem of welfare abuse to great populist effect. The issue resonates easily with Japan’s taxpayers, especially in Osaka City, where one in 18 residents receives welfare assistance, the nation’s highest ratio. Nevertheless, the level of disbursements nationwide is too low to support a plausible argument that Japan is afflicted by welfare dependency, as once claimed by many British and American conservatives, so Hashimoto instead emphasizes fraud. After becoming mayor, he quickly established a system to weed out welfare cheats. In addition, Osaka has been a leader among local governments hiring retired police officers to root out fraud. To be sure, welfare fraud is growing in Japan (partly because of eased procedures and partly because local government budget cutbacks have left too few staff to screen applicants properly), but its scale remains small, around 0.4% of outlays in 2010, while only around 30% of eligible households receive welfare assistance (Asahi, 12 December 2012: 6). Nevertheless, the problem stream favored Hashimoto, as a steady flow of media reports throughout 2012 encouraged the public to regard welfare fraud as a major problem.

Ishin no Kai policies on daycare and gambling follow common Japanese neoliberal patterns. The lack of daycare facilities has been a prominent national issue for several years, and Osaka City is easing standards for licensed daycare centers to encourage private firms to increase capacity (Hashimoto has criticized the power of the central government to regulate daycare services). Staffing requirements have been reduced from 5:1 to 6:1 for one-year-olds even though Japan’s daycare facilities are already regarded as thinly staffed; daycare workers in different cities have told the author they never get breaks. Hashimoto, like many other conservative Japanese politicians, has seized on casinos as a means of generating revenue without raising taxes (partly by luring foreign visitors). Ishin no Kai allocated funds in January 2013 to a campaign for legalization, despite concerns that casinos aggravate social problems, especially in troubled regions like Osaka. The campaign led Hashimoto to make one of his most-mocked statements, ‘All people can become winners by getting experience in gambling when they’re young’.

One of Hashimoto’s most reliably attention-grabbing populist efforts has been reducing or eliminating funding for cultural programs, notably classical orchestras, bunraku (Japan’s distinctive puppet theatre), and the Osaka Human Rights Museum (or Liberty Osaka). Hashimoto argues that such activities should be self-financing, but personal preference and political calculation are also evident, since he hardly masks his disinterest in high culture or his irritation with Liberty Osaka and its pro-multiculturalism agenda. These programs are not Osaka’s largest cash drains but de-funding them arguably contradicts efforts to turn the city into a prestigious global center since they—bunraku in particular—constitute an important cultural heritage. However, the cost-cutting forays often command media attention, enabling Hashimoto to dramatize his determination to reduce alleged wasteful spending. Reductions to health-related services generate considerable anger, but the average voter cares little about puppets or museums espousing gay rights.

4.2. Education

Hashimoto places special emphasis on raising Osaka’s weak educational performance in order to bolster economic performance.⁷ His education policies feature classic neoliberal measures—encouraging greater private sector participation, strengthening executive authority, and using quantified tests and evaluations—complemented by populist union-bashing and conservative nationalism. Immediately after compiling his first budget, Hashimoto shifted, in August 2008, to overhauling education policy and the prefectural Boards of Education. He began by ordering the Boards to make scholastic ability test rankings public. He reasoned that open information would encourage families to seek out the best schools, forcing institutions to compete and to improve performance. The Ministry of Education prohibits open comparisons, but its objections were brushed off. Facing resistance from some municipal Boards, Hashimoto pressured recalcitrant officials with harsh invectives and threats of budget cuts. He soon softened his tone, and, in one well-remembered moment, acknowledged that Okan (Mom) had scolded him for rudeness. Nevertheless, he largely achieved his objective as most of Osaka’s 43 cities agreed to publicize results. By early 2013, some Osaka area schools had begun publicizing results, a shift almost certainly inspired by Hashimoto’s policies (Asahi, 13 April 2013: 9, evening edition). Some Osaka teachers unhappily expect the Ministry of Education to change course as well.

Hashimoto’s first budget slashed both public teacher wages and subsidies for private high schools. Services such as security, teachers’ assistants, and assistance for the physically handicapped were reduced. The problem for Hashimoto was that private high schools subsequently raised fees about ¥50,000 just as the global financial crisis was hitting home, leading to a slight drop in the high school entrance rate. Since that initial blunder, however, the proportion of budgets devoted to education funding has been increased in ways that possibly improve educational quality, and that certainly help the private sector to enlarge its role. Subsidies have made high school almost free for lower-income families, and the high school entrance rate rose slightly, even as it fell in several other major cities (Yoda 2012; Mori 2012: 96–97).

Hashimoto has waded into some of Japan’s most bitter education-related controversies. He invoked the contention, long discredited, that school performance was weakest where Nikkyōso, Japan’s largest teachers union, was strongest, and he urged families to get rid of the 10% of teachers he alleged to be slackers (Yomiuri Shinbun Osaka Honsha Shakaibu 2009: 295). Hashimoto also ordered schools to enforce laws requiring teachers and students to honor the flag and sing the national anthem during ceremonies. Some Japanese regard the practices as ugly relics of fascism, but others are supportive, so most principals prefer to avoid confrontations by sidestepping the rules. In 2011, however, Ishin no Kai enacted an ordinance mandating respect for flag and anthem during ceremonies. Helping to fan the controversy, high school principle and Hashimoto’s chum, Nakahara Tōru, has made news by checking teachers’ lips to make sure they actually sing when the national anthem plays.

Ishin no Kai has strengthened executive control over education policy, contrary to Japan’s postwar practice of attempting to separate politics from education. Hashimoto himself voices strong respect for that principle and yet his actual policies prompted the monthly journal Sekai to devote its May 2012 issue to political interference in education. To strengthen the mayor’s and governor’s authority in education, Ishin no Kai established Basic Education Ordinances for both city and prefecture in 2012. The Ordinances enable local governments to hire principals (such as Nakahara) from the private sector and to strengthen the principals’ authority over personnel and budgeting. As with welfare fraud, the national problem stream lent momentum to Hashimoto’s education policymaking. Many Japanese Boards of Education barely function, a problem that was highlighted throughout 2012 by continuous news reports of dangerous bullying abetted by ineffective Boards.

Hashimoto has introduced policies seeking to bolster English teaching, establish elite schools to nurture future leaders, and provide vouchers for private classes. Most controversial of all, the Osaka Board of Education (now controlled by Hashimoto) introduced in April 2013 a teacher evaluation system in which students and parents will participate.⁸ The system incorporates two practices—evaluating employee performance and treating citizens as customers—that are commonly desired by neoliberal activists, and greatly extends them by involving minors as well as parents. In addition, Ishin no Kai has prohibited teachers’ unions from using public schools even though the events (such as skill development seminars) are usually education related. Previous court rulings that such prohibitions are illegal were disregarded.

Hashimoto’s education-related policies are probably his riskiest. The rapid shifts in policies could undermine the education of numerous adolescents, especially those in difficult family or social environments. Even Ishin no Kai Assembly members have worried that the pace of education-related policymaking has moved too quickly to allow for discussion (Asahi, 22 August 2011: 34). The emphasis on evaluations and testing raises further concerns. The value of performance evaluations is far from proven, and some observers fear that the concern with quantifiable results will detract attention from the social problems believed to underlie poor economic performance.

4.3. Public Employees and Ordinances

Understandably, many public employees have been angry that their compensation fell to the lowest level among the 47 prefectures (though some praised Hashimoto’s decisiveness), and not surprisingly, public employee unions opposed Ishin no Kai during the 2011 election. After winning, Hashimoto immediately attacked Shirōren, the largest union representing Osaka City public employees, for conducting illegal political activities.⁹ News reports generally echoed Hashimoto’s claim that unions were constantly breaking rules (e.g. Tōyō Keizai, 26 May 2012: 70–72), but there were few specific charges. Shirōren officials claim that only one clear-cut violation occurred, and that it was minor.¹⁰ An independent investigation headed by Hashimoto advisor Nomura Shuya uncovered numerous violations, but an argument could be made that all were petty and even unavoidable.¹¹ Nevertheless, Hashimoto used the opportunity to rebuke Shirōren’s chief on 4 January when he proffered a public apology; pictures of Hashimoto looking down haughtily on a deeply bowing official appeared in the above-cited Tōyō Keizai and other publications. Hashimoto also ordered all unions to cease using government offices, whose use had been subsidized.

A few weeks later, Hashimoto demanded that union members respond to a detailed survey on personal political activities. The survey clearly violated political and personal privacy rights, and the Prefectural Labor Commission ordered cessation, along with destruction of the collected questionnaires. On 28 April, 28 city employees and five unions filed suit against the city for violating rights of beliefs. Critics claimed that the survey cost taxpayers 86 million yen (Ichinomiya et al. 2012: 116), and a citizens’ group is suing Osaka City for the 9 million yen paid to advisors who planned the survey (Asahi, 12 December 2012: 11, evening edition). The variations among cases makes easy summation impossible, but several Osaka-based lawyers confirmed that as of February 2013 at least seven complaints to labor commissions and eight employment-related lawsuits resulting from Ishin no Kai policies were underway (personal communication, 21 February 2013).

Another highly publicized controversy was triggered in March 2012, when a City employee reportedly frightened young children by showing them his tattoos. Although an enquiry failed to verify actual occurrence, much less malicious intent, Hashimoto ordered an investigation of city employees’ tattoos, claiming that they could undermine citizens’ trust in the City. Critics regarded the survey and proposed rules as infringements on individual rights, but many Japanese are uneasy about tattoos (which are historically associated with gangsters), so Hashimoto succeeded in having rules revised to prohibit public employees from exposing tattoos or getting new ones. Six employees promptly filed suit against the municipal government.

Hashimoto’s frequent denunciations of unions and public employees appear to be partly heartfelt and partly calculated. One City official noted that Hashimoto generally treats public employees respectfully in person despite frequently berating them in public (Sankei Shinbun Osaka Shakai Bu 2009: 86). In addition, some sources suggest that Hashimoto works well with senior civil servants, who likely share many of his concerns, notably about budget deficits. In author interviews, some union officials noted that Hashimoto makes harsh attacks on Shirōren and Nikkyōso because they are well known and have activist or militant pasts, though they are now moderate (and greatly weakened), while ignoring unions that are more combative but have little name recognition. He has, for instance, taken no action against public employee union Jichi Rōren, which is ignoring the demand to vacate City Hall offices.

Ishin no Kai embodies the neoliberal proclivity for re-regulation in enacting a plethora of ordinances; critics accordingly mock its governance style as jōrei-shugi (ordinance-ism). In recent years, Japan’s local governments have passed numerous ordinances, but the usual aims have been to promote debate, participation, and transparency (and occasionally to reduce assembly member numbers or pay)¹²; in contrast, the most important Ishin no Kai ordinances are designed to curb the prerogatives of public employees and unions, and to strengthen executive authority over personnel and education (Table 1).

Some ordinances and related personnel policies aim largely at making it easier to discipline and dismiss employees, probably partly in preparation for the privatization of certain operations. Osaka City’s Education Basic Ordinance, for example, removes discretion from senior civil servants in deciding penalties, and Article 39 allows the city to dismiss employees whose jobs are eliminated through privatization (Shirotsuka 2011). Mid-level managers have been provided with detailed guidelines on monitoring and disciplining employees performing manual tasks, and those charged with violating rules are to attend private firm-operated seminars on strengthening motivation (Asahi, 30 January 2013: 13, evening edition).

One of the most controversial ordinances is the City ordinance on political activities, which prohibits participation in political-themed plays or demonstrations (against, for example, nuclear power) (Asahi, 27 July 2012: 33). The Political Behavior Ordinance prescribes sanctions, including dismissal and imprisonment, for public employees who violate rules on electoral activities. In June 2012, the Ministry of Internal Affairs announced that the ordinance violated public sector laws since it would apply, to local civil servants, strict penalties applicable only to national civil servants. The rules are similar, but national civil servants face more comprehensive restrictions and harsher penalties than local civil servants. Hashimoto argued, ‘There is no reason to distinguish between central and local government employees. It is a legal inadequacy’ (Japan Times online, 24 May 2012). That stance ignored the long controversy over whether the Japanese government is justified in restricting political rights for any civil servant. In any case, Ishin no Kai sidestepped the Ministry’s ruling by revising the ordinance to specify dismissal for offenders. Hashimoto explained, ‘While faithfully obeying the Cabinet’s decision, we’re going to bang-bang terminate the status of local civil servants’ (Asahi, 21 June 2012: 34).

5. Part 5: Support and Decline

5.1. Surveys

Hashimoto has maintained high levels of local support (Matsutani 2012), though he naturally fell from the stratospheric 79% level found by Asahi Newspaper at the two-year mark of his governorship (3 February 2010: 3). His star power has also enabled him to get otherwise unknown supporters elected throughout Osaka Prefecture (Yoshitomi 2011: 91–95; interview, Suita City Employees Labor Union representatives, 4 October 2013). Not surprisingly, surveys have generally suggested that much of Hashimoto’s popularity rests on image rather than the substance of his policies. The 2010 Asahi survey for example, showed that supporters emphasized ‘reform stance and methods’ (69%) and ‘character and conduct’ (21%), but just eight percent ‘particular policies’. In the 2011 election, Hashimoto claimed that Ishin no Kai was making Osaka Metropolis and the two ordinances governing public employment and education reform core and indivisible election issues. However, in accordance with Asahi’s earlier findings, surveys have indicated that few voters were concerned about the ordinances, important though they were. A large-scale Mainichi Newspaper survey (5 June 2012, online) indicated continued high overall support levels for Hashimoto, at around 57%, but that only 35% of Prefecture residents and 29% of City residents supported Osaka Metropolis. Other sources suggested that Osaka Metropolis enjoyed fairly strong support, but that even supporters thought that it had not been explained adequately (Yoshitomi 2011: 114–116, 142–146). A new survey indicates that Hashimoto’s Osaka Prefecture support has fallen to 49%, and that opposition to Osaka Metropolis has risen. See Asahi, 19 November 2013: 1, 34; The Asahi Shimbun online, 19 November 2013.

Matsutani’s (2012) analysis suggests that Hashimoto’s Osaka Metropolis agenda resonates especially well with people having relatively high incomes and career aspirations. However, a separate analysis of voter political consciousness indicated that Ishin no Kai’s support during the 2011 election was soft, with just 16% of self-identified supporters regarding themselves as ‘enthusiastic’ (Zenkyō, Ishibashi, and Sakamoto 2012). The analysis finds that people who ‘trusted’ established parties were somewhat more likely to support Ishin no Kai than those expressing distrust or no strong opinion, suggesting that frustration with established parties has not been a major factor in Ishin no Kai’s electoral success. Perhaps most important, many supporters, whether hard or soft, simply seem to be attracted to Hashimoto’s message of change. As several low-wage public workers in Osaka explained to a journalist, ‘We don’t know if it is good or bad, but we think that person [Hashimoto] will do something for us. So far, we haven’t seen anything from those [politicians]’ (Fujita 2012: 159).

5.2. Politics Juku

In March 2012, Ishin no Kai launched Ishin Seiji Juku (literally Restoration Politics School) to groom budding grass-roots supporters and politicians (Wakabayashi 2012). Riding the momentum generated by Hashimoto in early 2012 (and also helping drive that momentum by generating news about Hashimoto’s popularity), Politics Juku drew over 3,000 applicants, far more than originally expected. Initially, 2,000 were selected. They paid ¥10,000 monthly ‘tuition’ to participate in weekly seminars hearing lectures by such Hashimoto allies as Takenaka Heizō, who engineered Koizumi’s financial reforms, and Tokyo mayor Ishihara Shintarō.

Politics Juku demonstrates some of Hashimoto’s major political strengths—especially ability to motivate—and weaknesses—notably reluctance to undertake serious planning. Many Juku ‘students’ were young adults disillusioned by politics and concerned about deteriorating employment conditions, but hopeful of changing society through political action. They often expressed their desire to spread Hashimoto’s thinking throughout Japan (Asahi, 24 June 2012: 3; Nikkei, 24 June 2012: 31). One stated, ‘Our generation is disappointed in politics. It was Hashimoto-san who gave us a ray of hope’ (Asahi, 20 July 2012: 37).

Although grooming political candidates has been Juku’s main function in practice, Hashimoto and close advisor Sakaiya Taichi sometimes claim its purpose to be developing grass-roots activists. Hashimoto stated, ‘Getting people who want to be Diet members is no good. We want to people who will [work together] for one four-year term to change the shape of the country’ (Asahi, 20 July 2012: 37). This ambivalence reflects the preference of Ishin no Kai leaders to view their creation more as a movement dedicated to transforming Japan than as a political party committed to mundane re-distributional policymaking. Nonetheless, the lack of a clear mission, along with Ishin no Kai’s failure to provide substantive training or financial support, resulted in many Juku students dropping out or growing disillusioned (Aera, 10 December 2012: 19–23; Asahi, 10 February 2013: 30; Nikkei, 26 February 2013: 39). Despite the problems, 16 Juku students (out of 69 selected as candidates) rode Hashimoto’s popularity to win election to the Diet in December 2012. Still, Hashimoto failed to make much of an opportunity to develop the grass-roots activism he claims to favor.

5.3. National Politics and Political Decline

At the peak of his influence, Hashimoto made a bold entrance into national politics in early 2012, initially by demanding that the Diet pass legislation to allow the unification of Osaka. Fearing his popularity, the established parties quickly passed the desired bills, even as gridlock persisted on weightier issues such as disaster recovery assistance. Following that strong start, however, the national stage seemed to amplify Hashimoto’s weaknesses. The televised launch in September of Nippon Ishin no Kai fell flat because the incumbent Diet members who had joined the party seemed too deferential to their new leader; this reprised a recurring problem with Matsui, who appears colorless next to Hashimoto. Efforts to forge alliances with neoliberal-oriented parties such as Tax-cut Japan have floundered, partly because of the quarrels that Hashimoto’s aggressive moralism tends to provoke.

Hashimoto often appeared opportunistic, especially when backing off demands to shut down nuclear energy plants in order to forge a political alliance with atom-loving Ishihara in preparation for the December 2012 Lower House election. Hashimoto campaigned nationwide for Nippon Ishin no Kai, but in a national election his message of neoliberal reform lacked distinctiveness since he could not emphasize his signature Osaka Metropolis program (it did not help that Ishihara scorned the idea of Osaka-to and its suggestion of equality with Tokyo-to). Meanwhile, Hashimoto drew criticism in Osaka for neglecting city governance (and was targeted by a lawsuit for conducting political activities in violation of his own Political Neutrality Ordinance).

After showing signs of political weakening in late 2012, Hashimoto suffered a precipitate loss of influence in the opening months of 2013. In May he drew international scorn with his penultimate gaffe, claiming that the practice of supplying Korean ‘comfort women’ (prostitutes) to soldiers during the war was ‘necessary’. He then compounded the damage with careless remarks about the need to provide ‘recreation’ for American soldiers in Okinawa. The statements damaged Ishin no Kai’s standing with women, contributing to poor performances in elections for the Tokyo Metropolitan Assembly in June and the Diet’s Upper House in July.¹³

The shifting political environment, especially the quick success of Prime Minister Abe’s economic policymaking, rendered Ishin no Kai’s program an afterthought. Hashimoto was left facing a national political dilemma. He wishes to lead a restructuring of the opposition parties (assuming the requisite quarrels could be settled) but that would undermine his hope of working with the LDP on issues, such as regional restructuring and labor deregulation, where they share common ground; at the same time, cooperating with Abe risks reinforcing the perception that Ishin no Kai merely ‘supplements’ the once-again politically dominant LDP. When Ishin no Kai candidates got drubbed in two Kansai area mayoral elections (Itami City and Takarazuka City) in April, it was clear that support outside Osaka was fast eroding. An October survey showed that support for Nippon Ishin no Kai had collapsed to one percent nationally, including three percent in Kansai (Asahi, 13 October 2013: 4).

Hashimoto is also losing ground at home. In May, assembly politicians rejected a bill to merge Osaka Prefecture waterworks operations, regarded as a preliminary step toward Osaka Metropolis. A few months later, scholastic testing scores did not show the big improvements promised by Hashimoto, and had actually declined slightly. Neither setback was necessarily serious per se—Hashimoto’s pressure may have stimulated productivity-raising efforts in water treatment, and educational performance cannot be expected to improve in one year—but Hashimoto has consistently promised bold and comprehensive reform (like Meiji) and fast payoffs. Bad hires have exposed further problems in Ishin no Kai reasoning. Hashimoto insists that open hiring enhances efficiency by utilizing private sector acumen, but the 11 school principles hired from the private sector have generated six serious complaints, ranging from incompetence to sexual harassment (Asahi, 20 September 2013: 1, evening edition), and ward chiefs hired from outside have experienced similar troubles. Nevertheless, the city plans to hire 35 more principles from the private sector for 2014.

6. Discussion

Ultimately, Hashimoto, apart from his (and Ishihara’s) unusually aggressive rhetoric, presents a quintessential Japanese variant of populist neoliberalism. His targets—unions, public sector employees, welfare cheats—are typical of neoliberals. As in American and British variants of neoliberalism, business elites are held in esteem and private enterprise is presented as a common-sense, and even moral, model for emulation for public service providers. While heaping scorn on cumbersome rules (and often spurning rules itself), Ishin no Kai embraces the neoliberal proclivity for re-regulation by producing streams of ordinances, some designed to closely regulate the behavior of public employees. The signature Osaka Metropolis program and national agenda reflect desires long held by Japanese conservatives, to conduct comprehensive regional restructuring and to strengthen executive authority (Sakakibara 2012a).

One important factor in the success of Hashimoto, and many other successful neoliberal politicians, has been the lack of effective opposition. Reagan and Thatcher not only pioneered neoliberal policymaking, but also paved the way for further initiatives by severely weakening unions (Nakasone played a similar role in Japan, though a less important one given Japanese unions’ lack of militancy). In Osaka Prefecture, only around 15% of teachers are now organized, and the public employees’ unions have offered no substantive resistance to Hashimoto’s privatization policies. Citizens’ groups have enjoyed some success in protecting bus lines and other services, but the main obstacle faced by Hashimoto has been the established political parties.

Hashimoto has demonstrated strong political entrepreneurship abilities. He initially engaged voter attention by pursuing available policy options (deficit-cutting, privatization, education reform), then effectively used Osaka Metropolis to maintain his popularity and policymaking momentum after earlier initiatives floundered (much as Thatcher began to emphasize privatization after the abject failure of monetarism); he even used it to become a national political player. However, the weaknesses of Hashimoto’s political persona and political program, notably his careless remarks and failure to explain Osaka Metropolis convincingly, became increasing liabilities in the course of 2013. Because of the difficulty in gaining control over multiple local assemblies, Osaka Metropolis perhaps never stood much chance of enactment. Unlike other Ishin no Kai initiatives, Osaka Metropolis could not be passed quickly (a citizens’ referendum must be held and 125 laws amended), and its appeal seems to have faded as doubts have grown about whether it could revitalize the regional economy. When Sakai City residents defeated Ishin no Kai’s candidate for mayor in September 2013, any realistic hope of implementing Osaka Metropolis appeared at an end.

7. Conclusion

Hashimoto’s political performance skills for several years minimized a variety of core problems in his policy agenda: the populist-oriented policies engaged only minor problems and arguably infringed democratic rights; the education-related policies carried high risks; and regional restructuring was a politically daunting task with uncertain payoffs.

Although Hashimoto’s influence is presently ebbing (and a major resurgence unlikely), his overall influence on Osaka will be lasting, and his nationwide impact could be important as well. He leaves Osaka’s public sector unions severely weakened and many services scheduled for privatization; his policies will likely encourage other neoliberal-leaning politicians to pursue similarly aggressive agendas. Hashimoto himself remains in position to play an important role in national conservative and neoliberal policymaking initiatives, such as special economic zones, which would reduce taxes for businesses and free them from bothersome labor regulations. But the most important, and possibly most damaging, legacy could be educational policy: Hashimoto has set Osaka education on a market-oriented path using practices that are unproven, but that might encourage emulation for years to come.

Funding

Japan Society for the Promotion of Science (22530131, 25380162).

References